


Until the Very End

by doritoFace1q



Category: Kuroshitsuji (2014)
Genre: F/M, Possessive Sebastian, SebaCiel - Freeform, Shiori/Sebastian should have happened, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 05:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15812430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doritoFace1q/pseuds/doritoFace1q
Summary: Their first kiss brought her life. Their last would bring her death.Originally posted on Fanfiction.net





	Until the Very End

**Author's Note:**

> When there aren't enough Sebastian/Shiori fics to satisfy you so you have to write one yourself. . .

Shiori was ripped out of the cage, head banging against the hard marble floor. She rose up shakily on her arms and had barely registered what had happened when she felt a searing pain on her left shoulder. She screamed, tears pouring down her face as the iron was removed. The burning in her shoulder was so intense that she didn’t even notice when she her flimsy nightgown was torn off her weak, skinny form. But she _did_ feel it when something was forced painfully into her.

 

And so, it went for the next few days – she had lost of count of how many. The days became weeks that became months. Shiori didn’t care; it was all just a haze of pain and misery for her. Until came the day that would be both her biggest blessing and worst nightmare.

 

The other girl in her cage was forced out with her this time. Shiori found this odd. They never took the children two at a time: they would torture and ravage one in the centre, forcing the others to watch, screaming about their demonic god as they did so. But she didn’t think much of it. It was all the same, after all.

 

The other girl was stripped naked and tied down on the altar in the centre of the room, while Shiori was forced to kneel in front as a man whipped her repeatedly. The white-robed people surrounded them, chanting as a single man in the centre stood over the girl, raising a jeweled dagger as the girl screamed in terror. Shiori understood what was going to happen just before the man brought the blade down. She turned her head but was still hit in the face with a spray of something warm and sticky. The girl’s screams fell silent.

 

“Now, come!” the man in the centre shouted, raising his arms, robes splattered with red. “Come to us, my lord! We offer you the life of this innocent, tarnished soul, and the pain of the other! Come!”

 

The others in the circle took up the cry. “Come! Come! Come!”

 

A dark wind filled the room, and feathers swirled into existence, dark as night, and larger than any that Shiori had ever seen. Shiori screamed as the shadows solidified into a figure, cloaked in black, face hidden by a hood. Somehow, she knew that she did _not_ want to see whatever was under the hood.

 

The being turned to face her, and a chill ran down her bruised and battered spine as she saw two glowing fuchsia pinpricks of light within the hood. _Eyes_?

 

It took a step forward. “You have summoned me here,” it’s voice was neither male nor female, nor was it entirely human. Shivers raced along Shiori’s body. “What has been sacrificed may never be returned. However,” it held out a hand, skin pale as snow and beckoning with long, claw like black nails. “There is much to gain by having a demon at your side.”

 

Shiori’s breath hitched. “Demon?” her voice was small, weak and frail after not being used in so long, throat abused by her screams and lack of water.

 

The demon leaned forwards, face level with hers. “If you accept,” it said, eyes boring into hers. “You would receive the mark of the covenant,” it held up its left hand, displaying a glowing purple pentagram, surrounded by various patterns. “The more visible the mark, the stronger the bond, and the greater your power. The price,” the demon leaned even closer. “Your soul.”

 

“What’s going on?” one of the cultists shouted. “Demon! We were the ones who summoned you!”

 

“Somebody shut her up!”

 

Shiori stared, wide-eyed at the creature in front of her. _Power_ , she thought. _A demon by my side. A visible, strong bond_. . .

 

_Revenge_.

 

“Yes,” she uttered.

 

The demon lifted its hand. “Where?”

 

She grit her teeth. “I want to have the most power!” she shouted, and the cultists jumped back. “I want to have more power than anybody else has ever dreamed of!”

 

The demon chuckled. “Such greed in a form so small,” its hand descended, placing itself over her right eye. “But if that is your wish.”

 

Pain erupted in her eye, stronger than anything that had ever been inflicted upon her. But she did not scream. Simply stared down the demon as he removed his hand. The cultists gasped.

 

The demon smiled. “What is your wish, my lord?”

 

“Kill them,” Shiori stood up shakily. “Kill them all!”

 

“As you wish.”

 

It was hours later when Shiori awoke to a gentle rocking beneath her, face buried in somebody’s chest. _Father_? She opened her eyes, and reality came crashing down on her.

 

Father was dead. She had sold her soul to a demon. And that demon was now carrying her through a dark tunnel.

 

The demon chuckled, and whispered in her ear, “This is going to be very interesting, Shiori Genpou.

 

“Don’t you agree?”  

 

xxx

 

Shiori sat still in her seat as Sebastian knelt behind her, cutting her hair. He snipped the scissors with precision that neither Shiori nor Lin could ever have hoped to accomplish, turning her long, flowing locks into a short, boyish cut.

 

“How is this, My Lord?” the demon held a mirror in front of the girl as she leaned forwards, blinking in surprise at the boy in the mirror.

 

“I. . . look like a boy,” she said.

 

“That was your intention, was it not?”

 

She nodded as Sebastian took a small comb to her hair, brushing it so that it was straight, applying small amounts of hair clay to keep it in place. The new haircut, coupled with the suit her new butler had managed to get her into truly made a spectacular disguise. She poked her own face, just to check that it really was her in the mirror, and not somebody else. Sebastian chuckled.

 

“And, now, the finishing touch,” Sebastian tugged a small bundle of leather out of the breast pocket of his new tailcoat, draping it over her face. It took her a moment to realize that it was an eyepatch. _Of course_ , she thought. _Can’t have the world knowing that I’ve made a deal with a demon_.

 

“Now,” Sebastian handed him a small walking stick, perfect for his size. “Shall we go introduce the new Earl of Genpou to the world?”

 

xxx

 

Shiori flopped on her back, arms spread out on the pillows. Sebastian pulled the sheets up over her and had made to leave when Shiori called out.

 

“Sebastian,”

 

He turned around. “Yes, young master?”

 

She looked up at him from where she lay in the bed that was way too big for her small body. “Are you the same demon that my ancestor made a contract with?”

 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Your ancestor?”

 

“Ciel Phantomhive.”

 

Sebastian smiled softly. “I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Young Master.”

 

Shiori wrinkled her nose, and Sebastian suppressed a laugh at how ridiculous it made her look. She dug around under one of her pillows and held up an old, yellowing photograph. “It was in an old album.”

 

Sebastian held the photograph up, squinting slightly at the faded image. Ciel Phantomhive lay asleep in a large armchair, head resting on his arm. A white-haired man in a suit clung to the window outside, peering in. Sebastian himself stood next to the young boy, dressed in a very different tailcoat, hair much shorter and styled very differently. But there was no doubt it was him.

 

“I had no idea he kept it,” he said, handing the photo back to his current master, who shrugged, tucking it under her pillow again.

 

“Who’s the person on the window?” Shiori asked.

 

“The dog.”

 

Shiori’s eyebrows shot up. “Dog?”

 

Sebastian chuckled. “A demon dog, no less – your ancestor was quite fond of collecting us.”

 

“How did he meet him?” Shiori pressed on.

 

Sebastian smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that my young master is asking for a bedside story.” Shiori turned a faint shade of pink and turned away. Sebastian chuckled. “No matter. I can tell you, if that is your wish.”

 

She shrugged noncommittally, and Sebastian smiled, sitting down on the bed next to her. “The year was 1888, and the young master had just received an order from the Queen. . .”

 

xxx

 

The whirring of drills mixed with the terrified screams of the bound girls as the men dragged them roughly around the warehouse, tossing them carelessly into the wooden boxes, shoving in more people than the containers could fit, and nailing the lids down over their cramped, immovable forms, effectively sealing them in like livestock in a pen.

 

Shiori narrowed her eyes, lined up against a wall of the stacked boxes, ignoring the sobs coming from the other side of the flimsy wood. “The way you handle your products is too rough, even for human traffickers,” she said, voice calm amidst the wailing that echoed through the cavernous room. “What are you using these girls for?”

 

The leader of the traffickers, a man smoking a cigar, dressed in an outrageous silver and black striped suit, face and chest covered with way too many piercings and tattoos, turned and struck her harshly across the face, sending her sprawling. “Who do you think you are?” he knelt down in front of her. “And why do you have these pictures?” he held up the photographs he and his men had taken from her after finding her listening in on the warehouse. “You’re not a regular little girl, eh?” he dropped the pictures next to her head.

 

“Most victims of the serial mummification case came into contact with you shortly before their deaths,” Shiori continued, unfazed and collected. “What’s in the envelope?”

 

The man stood up. “How would I know?” he glanced down at Shiori, who was staring straight ahead, eyes half-lidded, expressionless save for the slightest touch of boredom. “Hey. What’s with that look?” he kicked her hard in the stomach, and Shiori curled around herself, coughing.

 

As she coughed, a familiar sound entered the room, cutting through the commotion of the warehouse. The distinct sound of dress shoes on concrete. The leader’s head turned ever so slightly towards the noise, and his brow furrowed.

 

Shiori turned her head, to the side as a shadow stretched across the warehouse, following it with her eyes to its base. From there, her eyes travelled upwards and she smirked inwardly at the silhouette she knew so well, pitch-black and illuminated cinematically by the lighthouse in the harbour.

 

The footsteps stopped, and the man stood in the centre of the warehouse, straight-backed and proper, looking for all the world as if he had been taken straight from a fancy dinner party. The room fell silent as all eyes, trafficker and girl alike, turned to the tailcoat-clad man.

 

The leader turned away from Shiori, crossing his arms as men filed in from all sides, surrounding the butler in a loose circle. “Who the hell are you?”

 

“Forgive me for the interruption,” he smiled pleasantly. “I am a servant of the Genpou family. I have come to retrieve my master.” His gaze drifted to Shiori, bound and beaten on the ground, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

 

“Master?” the leader followed the butler’s gaze, eyes landing on Shiori, who lay on the ground, staring at nothing in particular, the vision of boredom. “Her?” he chuckled, turning back to him.

 

The butler’s eyes remained fixed on Shiori, and, slowly, deliberately, he reached into his coat and pulled out. . . a butter knife.

 

Laughter resonated through the warehouse, harsh and mocking. “What the hell’s that for?” the leader cackled.

 

One trafficker, younger than the rest and obviously cocky, swaggered up to Sebastian, raising his gun to the taller man’s forehead and flicking the safety. Sebastian looked back to Shiori and cocked an eyebrow.

 

Shiori’s eyes flicked toward the butler and, betraying no emotion, she said, “Kill them.”

 

Sebastian smirked. “As you wish.” Fast as lightning, the arm carrying the knife flicked upwards, slashing the wrist of the man before him practically in two. Two more of the brutes rushed forwards but were met with quick ends as they were both stabbed directly through the hearts.

 

“Aah!” another man fumbled for his gun, but, before he could even properly draw the weapon, the butter knife had been hurled across the room, impaling itself in his neck.

 

Sebastian made quick work with the rest of the men, utilizing another butter knife he had produced seemingly from nowhere, his quick, deadly fists, and even the men’s own guns. He ended the final one with a point-blank throw over his shoulder. The criminal fell from where he had been standing, gun going off and hitting a barrel. An explosion shook the entire dock, flames and smoke billowing out of the open door.

 

When the smoke cleared, Sebastian was still standing, looking as stately as ever, barely a hair ruffled by the blast. The leader was the only one left, cowering in front of Shiori. “Wh. . . What are you?”

 

Sebastian turned, facing the two. “Me?” he cocked his head. “I am simply. . . one hell of a butler.”

 

“You’re joking,” the man spluttered. “There’s no way a normal butler can kill like this!”

 

“Whatever do you mean?” Sebastian began advancing. “I am the Genpou family butler; it goes without saying that I should be able to do something so simple as this.”

 

The man was obviously panicking now; he raced back to Shiori, wrenching her up by her shoulder and grazing her scalp with the barrel of his gun. “What if I do this?” he spluttered.

 

Sebastian’s eyebrows drifted up. Shiori glared at him with her one visible eye. _Don’t you dare_! The corner of his mouth curved upwards in a smirk that only she could recognize, and the knife fell to the ground. His gloved hands rose into the air. There was a bang, and his eyes widened. He fell back, body limp, bullet hole in his forehead.

 

“Sebastian!” Shiori shouted reflexively, and mentally slapped herself.

 

The leader threw his head back, laughing furiously. “Not so undefeatable after all!” he screeched, grabbing Shiori’s chin and turning her head roughly to face him. He grabbed her eye patch, wrenching it off before she had time to shut her right eye. “Oh, what’s this?” he pulled her closer, sickening breath hot on her face as he stared at dull amethyst. “Odd-eyed?” he sneered. “And such a rare color, too! You’ll fetch a pretty penny, little lady,” his grin widened, canines glinting in the light of the flames. “But, before that,” his hand drifted lower. “What do you say that I. . . test the wares?”

 

Shiori scowled, disgusted, and turned her head to the motionless form of Sebastian on the ground. “Hey!” she shouted. “How long do you plan on dragging this drama out?” the leader stared at her, obviously confused. “I don’t imagine the floor makes a very comfortable bed.”

 

The leader’s confusion changed to first shock, then horror as the presumed-dead butler sat up slowly, sighing and rolling his head on his shoulders. “My apologies, young Master,” he stood up equally slowly, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Modern guns have improved greatly, compared to those of the past,” he stood up, bullet wound gone, smiling serenely, as if he hadn’t just been shot through the head. His brow furrowed, and he held his hand up in front of his mouth, stiffening and heaving silently. Something fell out his open mouth, splattering his white glove with red. He held it up and smiled.

 

It was the bullet.

 

The leader’s jaw dropped. Sebastian smiled calmly, dropping the bullet, still soaked in his blood, on the ground.

 

“Took you long enough,” Shiori spat.

 

Sebastian only chuckled and began walking forwards. “My apologies, Master. But it was quite worth it to be able to enjoy seeing you tied up like that for a little bit longer; so miserable and weak, yet lovely at the same time,” the leader’s eyes widened in terror, and he fired the gun. The bullet passed through him as if he were made of water. “It suits the smaller, fragile part of you very well.” Another bullet phased through him as he stopped walking, stopping only a few feet shy of Shiori and the leader.

 

Shiori bared her teeth. “Who do you think you’re talking too?” she snarled. Another bullet. Sebastian just laughed.

 

The leader fell back, landing on his rump, eyes wide, lips quivering. “Sh. . . she’ll die, right?” he held his gun up, putting it to Shiori’s skull.

 

Sebastian smiled softly. “Oh, my,” he said, mock-thoughtfully. “Whatever shall I do now?”

 

“Stop dawdling!” Shiori snapped. “My wrists hurt, and his breath stinks.”

 

Sebastian smirked. “But if I come any closer, he’ll kill you, Master.”

 

Shiori exhaled furiously. “Are you trying to break the contract?”

 

Sebastian smiled ever wider, inkling his head ever so slightly. “Of course not. I believe I have taught you how to _beg_ , Young Master?”

 

Shiori’s face twitched. “Don’t be so vulgar,” she spat. Sebastian only smiled once again in response.

 

“What are you freaks talking about?” the leader shrieked, flicking the safety. “You –”

 

Shiori cut him off with a ‘tch!’. “I order you!” she shouted, right eye glowing bright purple, the barely-visible pentegram in the centre of her iris flaring with brilliant white light. “Rescue me, now!”

 

Sebastian’s red eyes glowed magenta. “As you wish.”

 

“Shut up!” the leader screamed, pulling the trigger. His eyes widened as Shiori looked up at him, eyes, both regular and supernatural, full of disdain, unharmed and alive. Somebody cleared his throat next to his ear.

 

“I believe this are yours,” Sebastian dropped something in his suit pocket: the bullet, which he had caught in mid-air before it had penetrated Shiori’s cranium, which was just slightly less malleable than his.

 

The leader barely had time to register what had just happened before Sebastian grabbed his gun arm, wrenching it up and twisting it. There was a series of cracks as his arm was dislocated many times over, and he fell to the ground, howling in pain. Sebastian tucked the leader’s gun in his breast pocket and knelt behind Shiori, slicing her bindings apart with a slash of his hand.

 

“I didn’t know you were into bondage,” he commented with an amused grin that was met with a less amused glare. He chuckled, holding out his hand. “Shall we?”

 

“Don’t take too long next time,” Shiori growled. She took his hand, and he helped her up.

 

“Wait!” the leader shouted from his spot on the ground. The two looked down at him. “I’ll pay you five – no, ten times more! I’ll pay you ten times what she does! Work for me! I’ll give you women, booze, anything you want!”

 

Sebastian smirked coldly. “Oh, no. The only woman I need,” he stroked Shiori’s cheek, earning him a venomous glare. “Is right here.” He smiled coldly. “And it’s not the obscene, feral things I want her for. For, you see,” he turned back to the leader, cowering on the floor. “The mark that my master bears bind me to her.” he tugged off his left glove, holding up his hand, where the same mark that glowed on Shiori’s eye was imprinted. “I shall serve as her faithful servant until the day she exacts her revenge, when,” his grin grew, wild and tinted with insanity. “I shall devour her soul.”

 

Shiori stepped forwards. “Last chance,” she said, tugging off the long, uncomfortable wig, dropping it in Sebastian’s hand. “What’s in the envelope?”

 

The leader’s brow furrowed in confusion. Shiori glanced at Sebastian, who advanced, drawing the gun, eyes glowing, shadows gathering around his feet. The leader scrambled back. “I swear, I don’t know!” he shouted.  


Shiori sighed. “How disappointing.” Sebastian shrugged, firing the gun. The leader fell back, a dark hole in his head.

 

The pair left without another word, silhouetted by the flames around them, as if they were already descending into Hell.

 

xxx

 

“You were screaming quite a bit last night,” Sebastian said conversationally, back turned from the screen that Shiori stood behind. “Might I inquire to what night horrors you faced this time?”

 

Shiori rolled her eyes as she wrapped the bandage around her chest. “Nothing of great concern,” she said. “Just the normal nightmare.” She tugged the end of the bandage and let out a hiss as one strand tightened to an extent that was more than bearable.

 

Sebastian’s lip twitched. “Do you require assistance?”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Shiori growled, remedying the mistake. She had done this thousands of time in the ten years she had been masquerading as Earl Kiyoharu Genpou, but there were still times when the bandage seemed to develop a mind of its own. “Done,” she said, turning around as Sebastian removed the screen.

 

He picked up the shirt he had picked out for her as she held her arms out behind her. “If only I could be by your side in your dreams,” he sighed, face not betraying the melancholy that his voice so masterfully depicted.

 

Shiori rolled her eyes as Sebastian slid the shirt over her form, gloved fingers brushing over the double snake insignia burnt into her flesh. “Please. Your face would only make things worse.”

 

Sebastian leaned forwards with a smirk as she buttoned the shirt. “Rotten brat.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing,” he slipped the vest over the silky shirt. “It’s just a dream, after all,” he added, picking up on the conversation that had stuttered to a halt.

 

Shiori rolled her eyes as she pulled on her trousers. “Don’t worry; I won’t go dying before you take my soul,” she grumbled as Sebastian walked behind her, fastening her eyepatch over the seal on her right eye.

 

“Yes,” Sebastian commented, smirk still on his face as he knelt to tie Shiori’s boots, she, herself, slipping on her gloves and rings. “Because the events of the past ten hours have certainly proved to me how responsible you are.”

 

“Shut up,” Shiori grumbled as they left her room, headed down the hall to greet the Queen’s personal secretary. “Don’t think that you’re off the hook for last night, either,” she added as they passed by Tanaka, who turned around, watching their retreating backs, eyebrow cocked.

 

xxx

 

Sebastian knelt at Shiori’s side as she sat, cross-legged and stone-faced, explaining the Necrosis drug and her deductions to Sato.

 

“. . . though he has an abundance of wealth and technique, his awareness of danger is greatly lacking in contrast,” the conversation drifted back to Sebastian as he dabbed at her wrist with an alcohol-infused cotton swab. “This country has been exploited.”

 

Sebastian began wrapping her wrist in a bandage, just as he had helped her bind her chest when she had been younger, as Sato mused over what the Earl had told him, attaching the end with a safety pin. “But don’t worry,” Shiori tugged her sleeve over the bandage. “I’ll be heading to Shinozaki soon. Make the preparations,” she nodded at Sebastian.

 

“Understood,” he stood and made to leave the room, when he was stopped by the maid rushing in.

 

“Young Master!” Lin cried, stumbling a bit as she stopped.

 

“What is it?”

 

“The police are here. They wish to speak with you and Mr. Sebastian.” Her eyes darted between them as they exchanged a look. Sebastian slid a butter knife out from inside his coat.

 

Sato noticed this and stepped in between them. “Today is the day of the mass exorcism ceremony; try not to cause to much trouble.”

 

Shiori sighed. “Can’t be helped,” she looked up at Sebastian. “Act befittingly, got it?”

 

He smirked. “As you wish, Young Master.”

 

xxx

 

Sebastian had just rested Lin gently on the couch, ready to leave for the exorcism ceremony when, suddenly, a most peculiar sensation ran over him. He frowned. _She’s uncovered her eye? But why_ – his eyes widened as he felt an (unfortunately) all-to-familiar tug in his chest.

 

_Damn_ , he burst through the back door, running faster than he had ever needed to run before, feet barely touching the ground as flew through the countryside, blurring through the city, time standing still around him as he became an invisible blur as he raced towards the honing beacon that was his master.

 

A voice sounded through their link. “Things cannot always go your way”, followed by the click of a safety button on a gun. He grit his teeth, legs moving faster as he neared the speed of light.

 

He ran up the wall of the warehouse, cycling through the still blades of the fan, leaping cleanly across the unbridged space between him and his master, landing before her and grabbing the bullet out of the air, moments before it entered Shiori’s heart.

 

Hanae Wakatsuki’s eyes widened as she stared down at her niece, who remained alive and (relatively) unharmed. Sebastian leaned over her shoulder, grinning. “Is this what you’re looking for?” he held up the bullet, pinched between his index finger and thumb.

 

Wakatsuki’s let out a gasp of horror, rushing back to stand behind her bodyguard. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to Shiori.

 

“Sebastian?” she gasped, holding onto her bleeding arm. He smiled at her, kneeling and offering his hand. She laughed drily, taking it. He placed a hand on the small of her back as he helped her up.

 

“Young Master,” he smiled, taking in the horrified expression on Wakatsuki’s face. “I have acted befittingly, as instructed. What are your orders?”

 

Shiori’s steely, mismatched eyes met his cold, red ones.

 

“Kill her.”

 

xxx

 

Shiori stumbled past Sebastian, heart pounding wildly in her chest, world spinning around her as she forced her weakened body forwards.

 

The demon turned his head. “What are you doing?”

 

She didn’t reply – she doubted that she had the strength to, anyways. She fell to her knees by the case, which had fallen from the catwalk as Sebastian had battled Asaki.

 

“Are you still trying to save everybody, even when you’re in this state?” she didn’t reply or acknowledge Sebastian’s question as she pressed her quaking fingers to the keypad.

 

_The password_ , she thought, pressing down on the four digits, hands shaking. _Aunt’s birthday_? The keypad bleeped in response, remaining stubbornly locked.

 

Warm breath ghosted the right side of her face. “You won’t be able to take your revenge if you die here.” She ignored the butler, pressing the four numbers that made up her father’s birthday.

 

_Bleep_. The error message flashed again.

 

“Are you really okay with that?” the demon asked.

 

Shiori’s quivering finger froze, and she stared down at the briefcase, mind spinning.

 

_My revenge_. . . she clenched her fist, replaying the scene from minutes before, when her aunt had burst into dust. _It all seems so pointless, now. Who am I taking revenge for, now? Myself? Or am I just trying to fill the void, desperate to give meaning to my life_? A weak smile flickered across her face as she felt blood beginning to seep from her ears. “Mother. . . Father,” she whispered, ignoring the demon who stood behind her. “I’m sorry.”

 

With those words, she grabbed the briefcase, holding it within her quaking arms, moving as fast as her dying body would allow her.

 

xxx

 

Sebastian watched as Shiori stumbled out of the warehouse, forcing her feet to move, taking one painful step after another. She made for the roof but didn’t even make it to the second step before her feet slipped, and she fell onto the stairs, case sliding behind her.

 

She looked up at him, breathing heavily, face pale. “Sebastian,” she croaked out.

 

Sebastian ignored her plea, looking straight ahead. “How unfortunate,” he sighed. “It seems that I’ve ended up serving a most boring master.”

 

Shiori’s expression was something he had never expected the stubborn girl to wear on her face. Shock, betrayal, disbelief, and pure, utter confusion swirled in her eyes. The whirlwind of emotions hardened into something he recognized: determination.

 

She forced herself up, picking up the briefcase, moving past Sebastian, up to the second flight, where Sebastian was once again waiting. Her legs failed her once more as she tried to rush past him, and she collapsed to the ground.

 

“I am under no obligation to serve you, now that you’ve chosen death,” Sebastian said as Shiori pulled herself up by a railing, cradling the case to her chest.

 

Shiori ignored him, inching up the stairs, putting one foot in front of another, taking each stair one at a time with two feet, moving through what must have been pure willpower alone. Even as he watched, he could feel the life draining from her, her organs begging to shut down, her weakened heart barely able to keep pace with her, formidable brain whirling slower and slower as neurons flickered like candles in the breeze.

 

He watched as she finally reached the roof, falling to her knees, clutching the box like a lifeline; and, perhaps, it was.

 

A look of realization crossed the earl’s face, and she was once again pressing the buttons. There was a click, and the lid swung open, revealing a detonator attached to a timer, and a glass tube filled with more Necrosis balls than even Sebastian could guess.

 

Shirori wrenched the detonator from the box, running across the roof as the timer counted down the final few seconds, raising her arm above her head, summoning all of her remaining strength and hurling the bomb off the roof, into the air. She turned, diving over the container of drug capsules, shielding it with her own body as the air trembled from the force of the explosion.

 

She let out a sigh of relief, rolling off of the capsules, looking up at the sky. “Game over,” she gasped, fingers splayed on the cool ground beneath her as a cloud rolled by lazily above her. _This isn’t such a bad place to die_.

 

A dark shape leaned over her, silhouetted against the sky. “You chose death, rather than revenge.” Though worded as a question, the words were spoken in a statement.

 

“What does it matter?” Shiori panted. “You were going to take my soul, anyways.”

 

The demon smirked. “Trying to act tough, now that you’ve accepted your fate?” he looked up. “I will give you this. You have ever ceased to amuse me.”

 

Shiori let out a short, breathy laugh. “Admit it,” she said. “You were curious, too.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her. “You wanted to see what I would do.” Her breath was coming shorter, now, and she knew that she probably looked paler than a corpse, veins sneaking up her neck.

 

She closed her eyes, chest falling still.

 

xxx

 

Sebastian held Shiori in his arms, her head resting in his lap. Her face was deathly white, and the same dark streaks that had claimed her aunt’s life were worming their way up her neck, climbing down her arms, clawing towards her barely-beating heart. No breath came from her lips, and her chest had ceased to move.

 

He opened his gloved hand, looking down at the two red orbs in his hand. The pills he had stolen from the laboratory, not the bloodied Necrosis he had tricked Wakatsuki into taking. The antidote that his master had refused.

 

He looked down at the still face of the girl in his arms. The girl who had called him from the depths of Hell. The girl who he had watched grow up. The girl who he had more or less raised for the greater part of her life. The girl with the oh-so-tantalizing soul, which lay steeped in darkness, hate, and deceit, but remained pure and untainted itself.

 

The girl he was actually considering saving.

 

He looked up, gazing across the city skyline, at the high-rises and skyscrapers that brushed the tips of the clouds, grazing the heavens themselves, then back at the dying girl in his arms. Mind made up, he brought the two pills to his mouth, biting them with his teeth so the red fluid just began to leak out. He leaned over Shiori, pressing his lips to her cold ones, easing her unresisting mouth open and pushing the antidote into her mouth.

 

He leaned back, watching as the streaks retreated and color returned to her cheeks. It was a few moments later when her chest began moving again, the faint rise and fall growing steadier and stronger. A few more moments passed before her eyelids flickered open and she sat up, not seeming to register that Sebastian was still cradling her in his arms and lap.

 

“You. . .” she turned to him, their faces practically touching. “You didn’t take my soul?”

 

He smiled his signature smile, both cruel and kind at the same time. “What fun would it be if I took your soul now?” he asked, running a hand through her short hair, bringing her closer to his chest, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “If I kept it drowned in hatred for just a bit longer. . .” his smile widened as he rubbed small circles on Shiori’s back as her breathing fell back into a normal pace. “I could enjoy a soul even darker than black.”

 

xxx

 

“I’m human, Sebastian!”

 

The declaration rang through the room, and Sebastian stared into Shirori’s eyes, brimming with tears, her jaw set, quivering. “This is how humans are,” she said, voice quieter now. The words that went unspoken with the shout echoed through Sebastian’s head.

 

“In many ways,” Shiori continued, still quiet, turning away from Sebastian. “Demons are much more trustworthy than humans. Always straightforward. You never stab in the back – only in the front.”

 

When she didn’t say anything else, Sebastian stepped forwards, motioning for her to lie back. He tugged the blankets over her, tucking her in and leaning over, placing a small kiss on her forehead, as if she was still a little girl, clinging to his coat and crying after a nightmare.

 

He turned to go, but was stopped by Shiori, hand grabbing at the end of his tailcoat, only strengthening his sense of déjà vu. “Sebastian,” she said, and he turned around. “Will you stay? Just until I fall asleep.”

 

He stood for a moment before smiling, moving forwards and sitting on the bed next to her. He reached out and placed his hand on her face, gently stroking her hair. She smiled softly, eyes drifting shut, as he spoke quietly. “I will always be here, young Master.

 

“Until the very end.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was formatted for FF.net, so sorry if the gaps are a bit big


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